Faith Lost
by lirpa
Summary: On the car ride back to Sunnydale, what do Willow and Faith talk about?


Faith Lost (1/1)  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, they belong to Joss Whedon.  
  
Dedication: To my sister for standing by me through everything. You know I love you.  
  
Distribution: My site, anyone else please ask.  
  
A.N: Faith is my favorite Slayer, she always has been. While I was writing a fic for a different fandom I though, what would Faith be thinking about on the car ride back to Sunnydale. Here's the result of that train of thought.  
  
Faith Lost (1/1) by lirpa  
  
*Faith's POV*  
  
It's kind of strange, you know. I mean not that long ago I was in jail, trying to make up for my oh so sordid past. Now I'm in a car on my way back to Sunnydale. I swore to myself I'd never go back to the place where it all began. And here I am, on my way back to Sunnyhell, with the most powerful witch I've ever met. Well, the only witch I've ever met, but still....  
  
Yeah, anyway, I'm going back to the scene of the crimes, to the place where all the people only know the old me, not the person I've struggled to become. They'll look at me with disgust and they won't trust me, but I can't say I blame 'em. If the roles were reversed I wouldn't trust me either, to be quite honest.  
  
It brings back memories though, and not all of them good either. I killed a man in Sunnyhell, actually I killed a lot of men in Sunnyhell, women too. I killed whoever the Mayor told me to kill, and I did it with pleasure. I was so busy looking for some affection, from anyone, that I turned to evil. I'm not proud of it, but it is a fact. It helped to shape who I've become.  
  
In prison they taught me a lot of things. How to control my anger, for one thing. They taught me how to leash my rage, and how to use it to my advantage. It was Angel who showed me the way to redemption however, and I'm glad I could help him, even if it only was in some small way. The Beast's master worries me though, who could control that hunk of rock? Who has that much power? Are they even human? I have all these questions and no answers for them. Angel is back to being himself, so at least I've done one good deed. I wasn't sure I could beat Angelus though, and after that I wasn't sure I wanted to live.  
  
"Are you okay?" Willow asks from the driver's side.  
  
"Yeah, five by five. It's just weird, you know? Two weeks ago I was in jail, searching for my redemption there. Now I've met Angel's son, seen Angelus, had a freaky brain journey with Angelus, and had to save him from his own son. And while I should be dead right now I'm still kicking."  
  
"That is a little strange," the witch beside me admits.  
  
"Tell me about it. So what's been happening in Sunnyhell?"  
  
"Well, we have some Slayers in Training, we don't know which one will actually be called as the Slayer..."  
  
"After I die," I interrupt.  
  
She turns her head and looks at me strangely.  
  
"Well B died and that called the Slayer before me, Kendra? Anyway, another Slayer won't be called until I die. There's an order about it all, and in the grand scheme of things a few lives are inconsequential."  
  
"You really think that?"  
  
"Would I be going back to Sunnyhell to risk my life if I didn't?"  
  
"What do you mean?" She doesn't take her eyes from the road.  
  
"Would I be heading back to certain death if I didn't believe that if one death, my death, was of benefit to the whole world? It's for the goos of many we fight, and it's for the good of many we'll die."  
  
"Wise words," Willow comments.  
  
"Just life as I see it. Have had a lot of time recently to think things like that through," I reply nonchalantly.  
  
She sighs," I imagine that prison would afford you a lot of time to think things through. Do you ever regret the things that you did that were evil?"  
  
"All the time, every moment of my life I have to deal with the knowledge that I took another man's life, that I cut short everything he was meant to do, all that he was going to be. It's not an easy thing to live with."  
  
She clears her throat, "I know."  
  
I swivel in my seat to stare at her. "How could you know what it feels like?"  
  
"I killed a man this summer. He killed my girlfriend and, I went a little crazy, I suppose. I absorbed all sorts of Black Magic and used it to kill him. I would have ended the world if Buffy and Xander hadn't stopped me."  
  
"Harsh." I know I should say something meaningful, but I can' think of anything, I think I'm still in shock. Sweet little Willow trying to end the world? Something about this just does not compute.  
  
"I know. I went to England, learned how to control my powers. When I came back they tried to act like it was the same but it wasn't. They might have been able to pretend I hadn't killed somebody, but I couldn't, it was always there, always reminding me of what a horrible deed I had done. I saved the world, I helped to save the world, countless times and then I tried to end it. I never thought that I would end up being the threat."  
  
"You never do," I comment. "While you're doing it, it seems so right, like you were meant to do it. And you don't stop and think because then you'd realize what a terrible thing you've really done. But int he end you've always got to face it, no matter how far you run. That's just the way life is."  
  
She sighs. "Exactly. The others, they try to understand, but they don't really. They act like they do, but they don't."  
  
"Well," I smile sadly, "they've never tried to end the world, have they?"  
  
"You didn't try to end the world," Willow protests.  
  
"I worked for Wilkins Willow, you think I didn't know what his ultimate goal was the end of the world? But I turned a blind eye because he treated me like no one ever had before, he respected who I was."  
  
"I'm sorry Faith," Willow whispers. She always was so emotional, at least the way I remember her.  
  
"Hey, I'm five by five. But all I'm saying is that we both did some pretty bad shit, some seriously bad shit, but we're still alive. That means we still have something to do on this Earth. I may be wrong, but I think that it's to redeem ourselves, o protect the people we failed."  
  
Willow smiles sadly at me. "When did you get so smart?" she asks.  
  
"I learned a lot of things in jail, learned how to turn my life around. Angel helped me so I think it's only fair I help you."  
  
"You know the others..." she trails off.  
  
"The others won't be happy to see me. Yeah, I know. But returning to Sunnyhell hasn't exactly been a cakewalk for me either."  
  
"Why? There's that innate Willow curiosity I remember so well. She has a such thirst for knowledge, the drive to know everything, to understand everything.  
  
"It's the scene of the crime, or crimes, Willow. Do you expect it to be easy to walk back into the town and have to face all the loathing and recrimination from people who barely know you, who only know what you've done? All in the one place that has the worst memories for me?"  
  
She sighs, "When I came back I felt a lot of guilt over Warren's death, over trying to end the world, but my friends helped me through it."  
  
"This Warren the guy that you killed in revenge?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"That makes it worse, you know. When they start being more than just faces that you never knew, that you never cared about, a name gives a person a whole life, stops you from seeing them as something else and makes you see them as human."  
  
"Did you ever know the names of the men you killed?" she asks in helpless fascination.  
  
"Some, not the first one, but some of the later ones, and I didn't care. Now though, now they all have names, lives that I cut short."  
  
"But as I said," Willow continues, "my friends helped me through my problems and they'll help you through yours."  
  
"I don't have any friends," I remind her.  
  
"You have the whole Scooby Gang," she protests indignantly.  
  
"They'll see the same Faith that left Sunnyhell Willow, you know they will. They don't care about who I've become, all that matters to them is who I was. And I don't blame them, I was a terrible person."  
  
Willow can't think of anything to say so she simply stares into the night sky. The perfect time for vampires, not quite night, but dawn is still a little ways off. The perfect time for predators of the night to attack their prey. I used to be one of those predators, but no more.  
  
"Sun will be up soon," Willow comments to lighten the mood.  
  
"Not soon enough for my taste. I'd like to know all the good little vampires are in bed."  
  
"Does it make you feel safer?" she asks suddenly. "What?"  
  
"The day. Does it make you feel safer?"  
  
"A little, I suppose. In the day all the monsters of the night are revealed. In daylight you don't have to look over your shoulder so much, fearing a sneak attack from a group of vampires with brains. Yeah, I like the day, but I come alive when the sun sets."  
  
"What do you mean by that, Faith?" she asks curious.  
  
"All my life, my whole destiny, is focused on killing the creatures of the darkness. I might feel safer in the light but everything, absolutely everything, that makes any difference I do in the dark, Everyday I wake up and I'm already thinking about what I'm going to do when the sun goes down."  
  
"That's all you think about, isn't it Faith?" Willow questions sympathetically.  
  
"What else have I got to think about? I've got no friends and up until last week I was in jail. You've got a lot of time to think about what you're going to do when you get out of jail."  
  
"I suppose. But why would you think about killing vampires? Don't you wish you could leave it all behind?" she asks.  
  
"I suppose. But I've got to find my redemption somewhere. I can't find it sitting on my ass ignoring everything that goes bump in the night."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why what?"  
  
"Why do you feel that way?"  
  
"I don't think it's only me, you must feel it too, or else you wouldn't fight."  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"You fight. I mean, you could be like all the rest of the residents of Sunnyhell and ignore what's in front of your face. But you choose to fight. You put your life on the line to protect other people. Why?"  
  
"Because I have to protect them, it's the right thing to so, no matter how you feel about certain individuals."  
  
"Exactly. So I may not be too high on B and on Sunnyhell but all the people in the world don't deserve to be sucked into hell."  
  
"So you fight because it's the right thing to do?"  
  
"I fight because I've been given the gift of slayer strength and power, speed, and stealth. All that I've been given is to protect those people. I can't turn my back on them because some idiot doesn't deserve to live."  
  
"That's a very mature viewpoint," Willow observes calmly.  
  
"Well, you got a lot of time to think of what you'd change when you're in prison."  
  
"You keep coming back to that. Did it really change you that much?"  
  
"I don't know how to describe what prison did for me. It was a place where I confronted my own demons, I faced all the things that I'd been keeping inside, all the things that made me turn to evil. It made me see that no matter what the world had done to me I couldn't take it out on someone else."  
  
"So anger at your situation caused you to lash out at everyone around you?"  
  
"Yeah. I know it sounds stupid but you all had so many people around you that cared about you and I had no one. I got jealous, I suppose. I haven't really thought about it."  
  
Willow heaved a great sigh.  
  
"What's on you mind, Red?"  
  
"You know you were talking about being angry at the world. When you went to work for the mayor?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"That's exactly how I felt after Tara was shot. I thought after all the things I'd sacrificed to help the world I was owed some happiness. I got so angry that the little happiness I had found was taken from me. I was so angry, just blind, unreasoning anger."  
  
"I think everyone feels that way sometime in their lives. I think we all feel that the world owes us something when everything goes south."  
  
"When did you get so wise?" she asks teasingly.  
  
"Jail."  
  
"That's your answer to everything."  
  
"That's all I've been doing for the last little while, Red."  
  
"I know."  
  
"So what's on your mind, Red?"  
  
"What makes you say that?" she asks.  
  
"You're frowning."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"So what is it?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I'm not sure the others are going to be happy to see you, they'll probably think you're still like you were when you left."  
  
"I said before, I don't blame them, I'm the one who fucked up. I have to deal with the consequences of my actions."  
  
"It doesn't get any easier, does it?" she asks plaintively.  
  
"Nope. Life's a bitch and then you die."  
  
"That's not very optimistic, Faith."  
  
"Hey, I'm a Slayer. I think I'm going pretty good. Most slayers don't live to see their eighteenth birthdays."  
  
"I suppose," Willow agrees doubtfully.  
  
"I don't think there's really anything you can say to that. The numbers speak for themselves, Slayers are killed by some vampire or demon, most before they turn 18."  
  
"But you're still alive," Red points out.  
  
"Yeah, because I was in jail."  
  
"But..."  
  
"And the council did try to kill me, Red. There's not much more you can say. They just didn't succeed. That's party luck, partly angel. If not, I'm sure I would be dead."  
  
"You can't be sure," she protests.  
  
"I'm not that good a fighter. B beat me, several times. Some demon or vampire would have offed me by now."  
  
We drive by the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign. I look at it and for a moment I try to contain my snickers. Willow starts laughing with me, like she can't hold it in any longer.  
  
"They really need to change that sign," I gasp out.  
  
"Yes, they should be warning people of the evil here," she agrees.  
  
"But somehow, Welcome to la Boca del Infierno just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?"  
  
Fin. 


End file.
